


We can make it to the End of the Night

by Kaori_Maxwell



Series: Total Eclipse [4]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, F/F, Missing Scene, Spoilers for Episode: Will you take my Hand?, philippa georgiou mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 10:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13716189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaori_Maxwell/pseuds/Kaori_Maxwell
Summary: She's Philippa and then again, of course she's not.Michael knows that. But sometimes the lines seem to blurr a bit.





	We can make it to the End of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of scenes set before 'Will you take my Hand?' and one afterwards, presuming a bit more time between episodes.
> 
> Beta-read once more by Noctuabunda- thank you so much for investing some of your sparse time!

If Philippa had been like her sun, this Philippa was- well, not the moon, because she had undoubtedly her own strong aura, her own captivating personality.  
But darker.

While she had never dared to take the final step with her Philippa, that bright beacon of everything Michael held important, her counterpart proved to be more easily approachable. Like being able to look at the sun because of an eclipse. There, but partially hidden.

It shook her, seeing ‘Philippa’ like that again. Like it was normal, a given: her sitting in the Captain’s chair, uniform pristine, hair done up- none of the blood, no blade- Michael averted her eyes, stemming the flow of images and when she looked up again, not-Captain Georgiou looked at her questioningly.

She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile and a small shake of her head, then resumed work at her console.

It was so much like before and so terrifyingly different at the same time and she felt small tremors gripping her spine.

How often had she thought about sidling up to Philippa, to casually lay a hand on her shoulder, while knowing perfectly well that they both would recognize that for the two of them, it could – and would – never be a casual gesture. Not after how they had started out.

 

She was yanked out of her musings by realizing that someone was staring at her. Michael tried to covertly assess who on bridge it could be, and after realizing it could only come from the direction of the Captain’s chair, she looked up once more.

The woman there didn’t just sit in the chair- she possessed it. Her posture left no doubt about who was in charge, even though she sat seemingly relaxed leaning against one of the armrests, resting her chin partially on her hand, looking back to her again and again.

The fingers across her mouth seemed slightly restless and led Michael to think about this morning and what Philippa had done with precisely that hand, while she had her on the bed and- she simultaneously felt her system give its best shot at a full body blush, as well as heat which pooled between her legs, followed by some moisture escaping her there. Her breathing was slightly elevated and she could not help herself from covertly squirming a bit when Philippa, still seated thus, smiled under her hand and obviously took a deeper breath. 

Somewhere between being deeply scandalized and terribly turned on, she averted her eyes and pressed her legs together.

The thought arose that Philippa, _her_ Philippa would never have made such an obvious and bold, _crass_ move... it served as another excellent reminder who this woman was and who she definitely wasn’t

But just when she thought she would be fine to continue, working on getting her breathing back under control, suddenly Captain Philippa snapped: “Specialist Burnham, with me!” She rose and stalked off towards the Captain’s office.

“Yes Captain.” Michael at once followed behind.

Once inside, with the doors to the bridge safely closed, Philippa regarded her with a look which had to be illegal somewhere and crowded her up against the wall. “You like to press me up against surfaces, don’t you?” she gasped.

“I like it when you call me ‘Captain’.” 

Michael had to laugh at that, “I think I like you.”

 

*****

 

She noticed Philippa looking at her for a while before asking “What are you thinking about?”

Michael sorted her thoughts for a moment before replying “That I’m thankful.”

“For what?”

“You. This. What I’m able to have with you.”

“You know this will not keep. Sooner or later, I will return to my own universe.”

“Yes. And I will be devastated. But this, now, I will treasure and remember.”

“You are terribly romantic.” She scoffed.

“Says the one leaving me this morning with a cup of tea and a note.”

“You make me feel so young. Desiring her always made me feel old in comparison. But with you, I feel invigorated.” 

Michael could not help but smile at that.

 

*****

 

She felt it ticking away inside her head, it clawed inside her chest, the urge to overthrow all of that neatly ordered ‘Federation Construct’, the useless niceties, the want to really take charge and make the most out of the ship’s capabilities.

She realized that she was pressing her jaws together to the point that it bordered on painful and forced herself to relax.

The Kelpien, ‘Comdr. Saru’ knew what she was. Not only knew, but he _felt_ it. Almost out of her range of vision, she could see him trying to reign in his ganglia.  
She turned a bit towards him and almost immediately he made eye-contact. For a long moment they simply held the tableau. Then very slowly and very deliberately, Philippa smiled. With a hint of teeth.

His eyes widened and his ganglia reappeared fully in the blink of a eye.  
But to her astonishment he held his ground, even started to stand a bit straighter still and did not back down.  
She raised an acknowledging eyebrow and turned back to look at the main screen.

A message appeared on her chair-screen: -I have worked with predators before. You won’t be the last.-  
She huffed a laugh: Cheeky.

He met her eyes unflinchingly, when she turned to him once more. She inclined her head minimally, grinning, and returned to studying her console again.

Different universe indeed. 

 

*****

 

Philippa offered her a morsel of her dinner, “Here, try this. I find your suggestion very amenable.”

Michael let herself be fed the offered food and nodded. “It is very good, I’m glad you like it.” A while they continued to eat in silence, when a question rose in Michael’s mind. “ Did you use to feed her like that?”

A broad grin appeared on the other’s face. “You wouldn’t be jealous of yourself, would you?”

“You know, back then, when you fed me- fed me with your chopsticks, I was sure I knew that you and her were-...”

“Intimate?”

“Yes. But now I’m asking myself-“

“It was a bold move, I admit. I knew that I could not trust her again, but something selfish in me still wanted to have her with me; to be able to keep her. Did I feed her usually? No, of course not.”

“I understand.”

“So you _were_ jealous.”

“Jealousy is an emotion which serves no further goals.”

“Obviously didn’t stop you.”

“...Maybe.”

 

*****

 

[ _Set around “Will you take my hand?”_ ]

 

The lights were dimmed to a minimum, but a bit of visibility remained because of the windows.  
The two women lay next to each other, Philippa on her back with closed eyes, but not yet asleep, Michael on her side, watching her profile.  
It was quiet, but they both knew the storm was coming.

“Philippa...” Michael’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Hm?” Her eyes remained closed.

“What will happen tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow we write history. Your history.”

“What about-“ _us_ , “-you?”

Philippa sighed. “It does not pay to grow attached.”

“...you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. But if I can help-“

“Oh, you will. But do not worry: your precious Starfleet took me on for a reason. And afterwards you will see that this has been all a lovely dream and that you’re much better off without me harassing your crew.”

Michael escaped a very unseemly snort.

“I know you don’t believe me now, my love. But some things are not meant to be it seems.”

“So you do want to leave.”

“I will leave, yes. That was the deal. I do not belong here, into what remains of your neat little world. But do not worry- I will be fine.”

Michael wrapped an arm around the other’s waist and pressed a bit closer up to her. “No matter what you try to make me think, I will miss you.”

“...I will miss you, too.”

 

***

 

\---  
My Dear,

by now our ways will have parted and I trust that you see now, that it is better like this.  
I do not intend to let myself become a slave, a pawn to be used and discarded how Starfleet sees fit.  
I am sure we will have exchanged some unpleasant words and I am sorry for hurting you. You know my feelings towards you – don’t think I wasn’t truthful concerning that part of us. But neither of us is ready to change so fundamentally. Nor should we.  
I’d like to say I am sure we will see each other again, but I am not.  
I am not prone to sentimentality and yet I do not wish to simply disappear from your side. Another good reason for me to leave: you make me grow soft. And I cannot have that.  
Take a look inside your pillowcase if you have not already; I trust you’ll have use for them. 

Take care of yourself Michael, my definitely not-daughter, and remember to follow trough.  
\---

 

Michael gripped the chopsticks a bit harder for a moment and brought her breathing back under control. Then she took another look: they were beautiful, made from what looked like ebony with an intricate, golden inlay down to the middle of the length – a very deliberate choice of design that had her smile a bit. Very bold, very much her.  
She studied them a while longer before returning them to their case, which she carefully placed in her drawer, next to her book. She wasn’t ready to cry again right then and there, but knew, the tears would come at a later time.

But what a wondrous journey indeed.


End file.
